The Tattoo
by MadamSnark
Summary: One Shot set during the Blight: After Kallian overhears Alistair asking about Zevran's tattoos, she decides to ask him for one of her own. Ending up in the privacy of Zevran's tent leads them to a better understanding of each other.


Firelight flickered low in the pit as the sounds of the evening shifted towards the quiet of the night. Kallian's companions began to thin out as one by one they retreated for their tents. Wynne had long since retired, as well as Sten. Morrigan could be seen by her own fire, pouring through the grimoire Kallian had found in the Kinloch Hold.

Alistair and Morrigan had ended up on first watch for the night, which usually meant bickering in sharp whispered words that managed to carry throughout camp.

It was the pair of amber eyes that Kallian could not look away from. Dangerous, they glowed from the low burn of the fire. Those glowing eyes raised to meet hers, and Kallian blushed realizing she had been caught staring.

"Something I can help you with, my Warden?" Zevran asked in that silky voice of his with a teasing smile.

They had been traveling with each other for several weeks now and though it had bothered her at first that the assassin kept referring to herself as being _his_ Warden, now, though she was loathe to admit it, she enjoyed hearing this beautiful elf calling her so. Perhaps she had grown lonely, that such a small thing would make her insides warm up so easily.

Kallian's eyes flicked down, hesitating to answer. "There was just something I was wondering, Zevran… about what you said, to Alistair?"

"I have said many things to our handsome Templar, you will have to remind me the specifics."

Alistair's wary gaze landed on Zevran. The contrast in Alistair's innocence and Zevran's promiscuity was the source of many bouts of teasing from the experienced elf.

"About the tattoos." Kallian gestured to the elegant black swoops of ink marking Zevran's face.

Zevran straightened up from where he had been leaning against a rock, a sudden predatory look in his eye. "Ah, you wish to see more? Yes they do continue much further down my back, as well as across my chest and arms, you see." He began to lift his shirt, all while keeping his burning gaze locked with Kallian's wide brown eyes.

She almost didn't want him to stop. Sure, she had caught glimpses of a similar swirling pattern when he took his armour off, or was just finishing slipping a shirt on as he emerged from his tent, but she was still curious. That wasn't the point though!

"Zev, stop trying to get naked!" Kallian mock shielded her eyes. As if she would really close her eyes were she to come across his naked form.

The shameless Antivan chuckled but ceased his slow striptease. "But getting naked is half the fun, no? Besides, you just called me Zev. This means we are friends, yes? What is a little undressing among friends?"

Kallian laughed outright while Alistair snorted. Most of the camp took Zevran's flirtations and innuendos at face value, but Kallian always saw it as harmless fun. He liked to tease and would do so all the more if he was able to get a reaction.

Kallian rolled her eyes. "Back to my question. You said you could… give someone a tattoo?"

Zevran's face lit up when he responded enthusiastically, "Is our lovely Grey Warden looking for some art work? Come, Zevran is always happy to provide a service!" He beckoned her towards him.

Alistair looked back and forth between the two elves. "Are you serious?" His focus finally settled on Kallian.

"Yes…" Kallian knew what Alistair was going to say next.

"You want to let the _assassin_ at your exposed...whatever, with pointy needles and no one around to witness. Very likely." Alistair crossed his arms as if this ended the discussion.

"Sometimes you have a one-track mind Alistair. Really? It's not bloody likely he's just going to up and kill me after how long?" Kallian marched over to Zevran and grabbed his hand, "Come on, Zev."

Five seconds after pulling Zevran by his surprisingly warm and soft hand, Kallian let go as if she had been shocked.

"Er… sorry." She had been all but dragging him to his tent. Still, a part of her wanted to keep holding that hand.

There was a playfulness in Zevran's eyes when he said, "I am not opposed to being lead around by powerful and beautiful women, or rather _woman_."

The way the word 'woman' rolled off his tongue and his eyes raking over her body made Kallian feel both naked and overdressed all at once. Heat rose in her cheeks and she cursed her pale skin for giving away her flush so obviously.

"And she blushes so delightfully too! What a treat." Zevran chuckled. "Now, about that tattoo? Were you serious, or was this all hypothetically speaking?"

They slowed to a stop outside Zevran's tent. Kallian realized what it would look like; her going into his tent at night, after his many flirtatious comments and words laced with sexual undertones. That sodding blush still refused to leave. Good thing no one else was around to witness it. Not that she would be ashamed if that were the case! Just wouldn't want people to make assumptions. It wasn't as if she didn't _think_ about it, with Zevran.

"Warden?" Zevran's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "You were getting lost up here," he touched the side of her head with a smile. "There is no rush. If you are having second thoughts we can do this another night." His voice was warm with sincerity. A rare tone for him.

"No! I mean that's not what I was thinking. I mean yes. Yes, tonight is good. I already know what I want. If you can do it," she blurted. Why was she suddenly so excited to be in his tent alone with him? Alone, with Zevran, master of seduction. The thought sent tingles down her spin.

Zevran opened the flap of his tent and gestured as if he was welcoming her to a royal palace, with a wink and a much too sexy smirk. This was when she hesitated. It was Zevran after all. She wanted to be clear that she was really only looking for the tattoo.

Zevran read her hesitation and took her hand in his own, rubbing his thumb across her cool skin. "Now, now my Warden. Nothing will happen in here that you don't want. A tattoo is what you want, and that is what you will get. Shall we?"

Kallian breathed deeply and nodded quickly. She ducked into the tent without letting any further doubts cross her mind. She trusted him with her life. Whatever Alistair thought, Zev had proven himself time and time again. They often had each other's' backs. Their dual wielding styles worked well off of each other. Now she would literally be trusting him to have her back.

Kallian knelt in the tent watching Zevran fiddle in his pack, searching for ink and needles.

"Now which part of your beautiful skin will be graced with ink?" Zevran asked, his back still turned to her.

"My back. I want the Vhenadahl."

He finally turned, supplies in hand. "Ah. To remember home, yes? To have left to become a Grey Warden, so young. Yes, this is a good choice." His voice was soft in understanding.

"You miss Antiva don't you?"

"Yes and no. Warden, you must turn over and remove your shirt for me. I promise my eyes will not wander," he continued speaking with his back turned to her, "There are certain comforts of home I miss, the warmth for example, but I find myself less and less concerned with my old home."

Kallian shrugged out of her shirt and lay it beside her when she got on her stomach. "Your old home? You don't intend to go back?"

Zevran's fingers slid beneath her breastband and skillfully undid the clasp. A flush spread across her neck. This was too intimate. It was too much.

Yet Zevran chattered on professionally, not even making some inappropriate comment about how she was bare before him. "If I did go back, I fear it would not be home anymore."

"You have a home with me, I mean us. Here, with everyone, is what I mean." Kallian tripped over her words, and yet again, her face flushed and she buried her face in her arms.

"Hm? Perhaps," A ghost of a smile crossed his face. "Now shall we begin?"

"No rose water baths, or massages to prepare the skin?" Kallian teased.

His voice was suddenly very close to her ear, so much so that she could feel his breath across the tapered point, "Only if you want it, my Warden."

Just as suddenly he backed away and began preparing the needle with the ink, leaving Kallian in a heated daze.

"Upper or lower back?" His hands ghosted over her spine sending goosebumps along her arms.

"Upper, please. So the branches fan out to the bottom of my neck. You can do that, right?" She answered, collecting herself.

"Of course, my Warden. It shall be done." He traced a pattern on her back with gentle strokes of ink. "I am going to start with the needles. Try not to tense up, but let me know if it hurts too much. We can take breaks."

"Okay, I'm ready," Nyla's voice was muffled with her head in her arms.

Zevran pushed the stray hairs from her back, sweeping her blond locks to one side, and she nearly shivered. He was touching her so much. Why was she doing this?

The first touch of the needle was surprising, it felt hot, sharp but bearable as she got used to the rhythmic feeling of the point in her skin. It was a predictable, easy pain. Compared to a sword, this was easy. She relaxed more as she got used to the burning sensation, trusting Zevran to the art.

"Zev… something's been bothering me." Kallian's voice seemed too loud in the otherwise quiet tent.

"Well we can't have that, can we? Come, tell Zevran your troubles," his accented voice was quieter than usual as he concentrated.

"I'm sorry for what Alistair said. You're more than an assassin. I trust you."

The needle stilled for a moment, barely more than a breath of time, but Kallian noticed. "He is not wrong though. I am an assassin. I have told you stories of my kills. Perhaps you are wrong to trust so easily," his voice came out in clipped tones.

"Or perhaps I understand. Alistair doesn't get it, but I do. You do what you have to, to survive."

"My dear Warden, so naive. I _enjoy_ killing and I am good at it. There is no more to it than that."

"Bullsh - ow!" Kallian's entire body tensed up when he began tattooing right over her spine. She clenched her fists in the blanket beneath her, trying to breathe through the sudden pain. She was reaching her threshold and quickly.

The needle stopped and she was left with a pounding heart and shaking hands. Warm brown hands covered hers and she relaxed her fists slowly into the tender strokes. Warmth curled in her belly from his soft care.

"We will take a break." said Zevran after her tension eased away.

"We don't have to, I'm fine now.

"Well I need to mix more ink and fill the needles again, so we will break anyways." He patted her on the back of her calf.

Kallian couldn't put her breast band back on so she stayed on her stomach, keeping her breasts covered beneath her. She should have been wary with an assassin to her back, should have been uneasy with Zevran so close to her nakedness, but she was completely relaxed. The only point of stress being pain of the tattooing.

"How did you learn to tattoo?"

"It was something to occupy the time, there was no shortage of apprentices to practice on. All Crows of course get tattoos, but the meanings of them are secrets to all but us. We could not all simply brand ourselves with the same marks. It would be much too easy for targets to identify us after all."

Feeling bold, in the privacy of the warm tent, and the intimacy of just the two of them, Kallian brushed her hand along the left side of his face, following the swooping lines that curled around his eye and across his cheekbone.

"Why this one? Didn't it hurt?"

Zevran laughed and caught her hand in his where it hovered over his cheek, fingertips barely grazing his skin. "Indeed it did, but I was rather vain. I thought myself dangerous and beautiful, and a tattoo such as this surely shows both, yes? I have been told it accentuates my high cheekbones."

"I like it." Kallian blushed, not intending to have spoken aloud. He wasn't wrong. It _did_ accentuate his high elven cheekbones nicely and it was just so _Zevran_.

Foreign, and different, a hint of danger, but she knew there was more to him than that. He had been able to avoid continuing their conversation from earlier. She was calling bullshit on his nonchalance and he continued to hide behind a wall of shallowness.

"I'm ready to keep going. I'm starting to think you just want to keep me topless in your tent for as long as possible," she couldn't resist the urge to flirt.

Zevran again pushed the hair off of her back and smoothed it to one side. His fingers ran lightly through her hair several more times before he answered. "I could think of worse ways to spend my time. Having my Warden at my mercy is not such a bad one," he teased. "Are you ready? I am going to finish on the spine now. Breathe through the pain, my Warden."

Kallian nodded into her arms, taking deep breaths the way he demonstrated. The first touch was not so bad but it quickly became more intense as he continued, the burning never ceasing, only spreading.

"Breathe, my Warden, like this." He instructed and she tried to time her breaths with his, matching his even pace. "Would you like me to talk?"

"Mhm, ah shit," Kallian grunted out with her eyes squeezed shut.

He began telling a story, weaving a tale of mystery and excitement of an assassination job in Antiva. He seemed to have endless stories. Kallian only half paid attention this time. She focused on the sound of his voice more than the words he was saying. The cadence as he exclaimed in excitement and laughed at a target's mistake. He seemed to know she wasn't listening as closely as she usually did, happy to fill the silence for her anyways.

"And now we are almost done," he said at last.

Kallian's shoulders relaxed and she sighed in relief. "You'd think that someone who's been stabbed and run through with arrows would be able to handle this better."

"This is a different pain. You are not fueled by the heat of battle. Besides you are doing wonderfully."

When he next pressed a needle into her, it was in the fleshier side of her back and the pain was barely a flicker in her mind.

"Zev, can I ask you something?" She said now that she was able to again focus on a conversation.

"Ever curious, my Warden. You may," she could hear the smile in his voice.

"About being an assassin."

"What more is there to ask? I kill people for money. It is the way of things." The smile was gone.

"I think you want me to think that. It's not true. You even said so yourself, that they fucking _bought_ you, trained you to be a killer for them."

"So you're saying I had no choice? You are wrong about that, my Warden. I had a choice, and I enjoyed the power, the thrill from being good at my job. As an _assassin_. Because that is what I am; do not try to fool yourself otherwise."

Kallian bit her lip, trying not to yell at him, to get it through his stubborn head. Why couldn't she make him understand what she meant?

"You did have a choice. You chose survival. I don't look at you and see an assassin, even if that's what you want everyone to see. I see a survivor, someone who chooses to live, over and over again," Kallian's voice raised as she grew more heated.

Zevran responded quietly, "I have murdered countless people, and for money. You are saying this doesn't make me a bad person?"

"You didn't choose the profession, Zev, you chose to live. I've killed people, stolen, lied. What about me? Am I untrustworthy?"

"That is different. You are different. You killed that nobleman to defend yourself. I did these things for money. You truly do not care about me being an assassin?"

"But that's the point. You get paid, but you never did it for the money. If you didn't kill you would have been killed yourself. It's what you expect for failing to kill us! It's the same thing. It was all to make sure _we_ survived." Kallian wished she could turn around and look into his eyes as she spoke, so he could see the truth of it in her face. She needed him to believe her. She needed him to know that she didn't see him as a murderer. She trusted him. He was much more of a good person than it seemed he could ever realize.

"This...is true." He stopped tattooing her and sat quietly while he collected his thoughts. "How old are you, exactly, my Warden?"

"Wh- eighteen, why?" The change in direction threw her off.

"Truly? It seems that you are wise beyond your years. Someone who has lived a hard life. A shame, really for such beauty to face such hardships."

"Yes, well...beauty? Did you just say you think I'm beautiful?" He was making her flustered again.

Zevran put the needle down. The feeling that her entire upper back was on fire persisted though. "We are done, and I am thinking that the awesome Zevran has made his beautiful Grey Warden all the more so."

Kallian flushed all the way to the tips of her ears. "There you go again with the 'beautiful' shit."

"I say so because it is true. If this offends, then I am sorry. Let me get the salve to prevent this from getting infected."

He reached back to his pack while Kallian was still internally flailing. He had called her beautiful. Twice!

His hands were sure and steady when he lightly rubbed the tattoo with the salve. It was cool and refreshing. She hadn't realized how much her back was burning until the cold replaced it. It was wonderful and she was pretty sure it was largely just because Zevran was touching her.

"You didn't offend me," she finally mumbled while struggling to tie her breastband back on.

Zevran's hands covered hers and nimbly tied it, before handing her discarded shirt back. She slipped it back over her head, hissing as the fabric made contact with her overly sensitive back.

"Beautiful and wise, Kallian. A dangerous combination." Zevran smiled, really smiled instead of a playful smirk.

"I'm not wise," she muttered.

Zevran lifted her face up with a finger, his thumb brushing across her chin, that smile still playing in his eyes. "Perhaps I am not the only one not seeing himself clearly, my beautiful Grey Warden."

Kallian almost stopped breathing. That was four times now that he called her beautiful. Her heart was racing. She should move. He was still staring into her eyes. What was she supposed to say to that?

Every sense felt heightened. Her back was both hot and cold. She could smell his scent surrounding her; Antivan spices and leather filling up his tent, and his eyes, all she saw were his amber eyes.

Thinking ceased and she impulsively shifted closer, closing the small distance between them and her lips met his. If Zevran was shocked, he didn't show it. His lips and tongue caressed hers and she gasped into his mouth. Tongues danced around each other, slowly and sensually. His hands held the sides of her face, pushing the hair back behind her ears, holding her to him so she couldn't break the kiss. She didn't want to but the need for air overwhelmed her so she broke away, panting, chest heaving against his.

"Beautiful, and a wonderful kisser. Where do your talents end?" Zevran laughed, hands still stroking the sides of her face. "Come, we will go down to the water so you can see the art on your back."

The water was still, reflecting the moonlight perfectly back at them, Kallian's cheeks still tinged with pink from the passionate kiss. Kallian knelt by the water and lifted her shirt up until she could see the black ink, looking over her shoulder at the reflection. There it was, the Vhenadahl, branches stretching up to her neck, roots digging down to her spine. She would always have a piece of her home with her.

"Thank you Zevran," Kallian said softly.

"I should be thanking you. To have such a wonderful back as my canvas, and… you have given me much to think about, my Grey Warden."

They walked back to camp in silence, but it was the comfortable kind. Kallian couldn't help but think that maybe she had gotten through to him, and she couldn't help but wonder if there would be more than kissing in their future.

* * *

A/N: Leave a review to let me know what you thought! I can't get enough of this pairing!


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